L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane (27 page)

Aramoro glimpsed another figure, still chained to the wall of the cell.

"Two . . ." Aramoro's sword fell back into its saya, his numb fingers slipped from its hilt.

"Yes, Aramoro-san," Kachiko purred softly. "One for me, and one for his honored clan, to repay them for their part in the fall of the Scorpion." Reaching beneath one of the low tables, Kachiko pulled forth a long chest. Inside lay Hoturi's clothes, fan, and sword.

The false Hoturi stared into the Crane Champion's eyes, every inch a perfect replica. Even the small scar on Hoturi's cheek, given to him by Satsume long ago, was reflected in the beast's image.

"He has your eyes, Hoturi," she cooed softly, touching the replica's chin and turning his face to hers. "You'll also note that he has much more than your appearance. He has your memories, your darkest thoughts and desires—and none of your honor," the word was a slap, "or your sense of duty to constrain him. He is perfect, my beloved lord of the Crane. Perfect to take your place and bring your clan to ruin."

"Here, little one," Kachiko lifted the ancient sword from the sleek chest and offered it to her creation. "You will carry this. Bring to it all the honor it deserves." The weapon made no sound, unable to rejoice in the grip of a wielder that was not the true heir of the Crane.

The beast's red eyes faded as it touched the sword, turning as pale and blue as those of the Doji Lord. It looked once more at Hoturi, smiling a feral grin as it shoved the katana into its obi. Carefully, Kachiko dressed the false Hoturi, placing the rich garb of the Crane Champion on the creature that had sprung from the magical egg. When she had finished, Hoturi felt as if he were looking in a mirror. The beast's hands, face, movements, even its voice as it whispered to Kachiko—all were identical. All made this double indistinguishable from the true lord of the Crane.

The only difference was the madness behind its eyes.

madness released

Kakita Yoshi knelt on the high dais of the emperor's throne room, enjoying the silence of the evening. The huge chamber was empty, its floor shined to a reflective glow. Below the dais, two lanterns glowed. The lord of the Kakita rested on a fine cushion, enjoying the gentle fall of twilight.

In his hand he held a small figurine of jade, a woman carved in resemblance to the Lady Doji, first of the Crane among the Celestial Heavens. The token brought him peace when his mind was troubled, and it was never far from his side. With the recent troubles in the court, Yoshi had taken to carrying it even when he was alone. It was his way of asking for Lady Doji's blessing and that her watchful eye be never far from her noble sons.

In the somber twilight, his battlefield was silent. The samurai of the court had stepped into their chambers to prepare tomorrow's

strategy. Soon, Shizue would come, ending her discussions with the Phoenix. Then, she and he would return to their chambers to prepare the next day's strategy. For now, the silence filled him with restful quiet.

Ten days had passed since Toshimoko was named Emerald Champion, and already the court revolved around the Crane and their war. All the houses of Rokugan feared the strength of the Emerald Champion. They remembered Satsume's legions, clad in shimmering green and gold and marching at the side of the Crane. It was good that the great clans of the empire knew fear. It made them more malleable—easier to control.

A sudden disturbance in the hallway caught Yoshi's attention, destroying his reverie. A servant shouted and fell prostrate, begging forgiveness in a broken whisper. The painted screens of the emperor were flung wide, and the stark light of the corridor chased the shadows into distant corners of the room.

A large figure broke the light from the hallway. He leaned arrogantly on one of the doors. "Yoshi-san," a mocking voice echoed through the mahogany beams of the council room. "I knew I would find you here."

Hoturi? The man strode into the room with a warrior's steps, wide and stalwart.

Deeply surprised, Yoshi stood from his cushions to greet his lord. "My lord Hoturi," the courtier's voice did not betray his emotion, "I had not expected to see you here. Your note said you had left for Kyuden Doji, to see that the palace was prepared for Lion attack. We have readied the men to follow— those that can be spared from Otosan Uchi's Daidoji guard."

"Thoughtful." Hoturi smoothly smiled, his eyes bright in the dark room. Hoturi's gaze drew Yoshi's attention as a serpent's draws in a wren.

Something inside Yoshi recoiled. "My lord," he whispered, "there is great need for you in the lands of the Crane. You should not have returned."

"You think to command me, Yoshi?" The lack of formality seemed sinister, echoing though the emperor's own courtroom. "No, no ... not at all, my lord. It is only that..."

"lie." The biting retort churned in Yoshi's stomach. "You will be silent." Hoturi stood on the edge of the dais, his hands balanced on the hilt of the ancestral sword at his side. For a long moment, the champion of the Crane looked around the wide chamber. His flickering eyes rested on the painted screens, the wooden dais, and finally, on the throne of carved emerald at the center of the high chamber. "Come here, Yoshi."

The Kakita Daimyo bowed, moving smoothly from his seat on the dais. "Kneel."

Confused, the Kakita Daimyo fell gracefully to his knees at his lord's side. The figurine was clasped tightly in his hand. The edges of the statuette bit into his soft palm.

Hoturi stepped around him, a smile playing on his lips. He moved like a cat, circling the pale daimyo as he spoke. "The world around us has changed, Yoshi. There is no time for mistakes or for pleasant games. The Lion and the Crab have struck their first blow against us. We must repay them in blood." Sinister threads wove their way through the Crane Champion's words, implying murder and destruction. "You whisper gentle words with the courtiers here while Daidoji and Doji die on the field of battle. The earth drinks their blood as you drink your pretty sake."

"The Crab have turned away from our southern lands, due to our efforts here.... They have—"

"lie!" Yoshi heard a faint click as Hoturi's sword slid from its saya. The blade gleamed red in the light of colored lanterns. Blood trailed down the edge of the ancient weapon, tingeing its shining soul with madness and fury. "You have not done enough! You have failed to keep the Crab from our borders. They will return, and the Lion still slaughter our men without pause!" Hoturi's voice shook from the force of his anger. For a moment, Yoshi heard Satsume's voice instead of his son's. "The Crane are done playing your games, Yoshi! It is time to fight and to give our enemies the brutal deaths they deserve.

"There will be no more mercy from the Crane. We must strike without regret. We must strike without thought. And those who fail us," the sword slid fully from its sheath. "Die."

The sword blow stunned the Kakita Daimyo, sliding through cushion and dais and sinking deep into the cherry wood below. The blade protested as Hoturi wrenched it free. He raised the ancestral sword of the Crane once more and stared deeply into its light.

Yoshi's hand fell open, and the token of jade rolled to the dais. It glowed faintly, the inner light of the kami shining in the presence of Hoturi's madness.

With an angry curse, Hoturi picked up the token and hurled it across the room. The scent of burning flesh came from his hand.

"Now, cousin Yoshi." Hoturi grinned with feral passion. He held his left hand gingerly, but his sword did not waver in his steady grip. "I have a few commands for you." Without bothering to resheath his katana, Hoturi reached into his sleeve and tossed a package of papers on the floor. "You will find instructions for the court and new alliances to create. Do whatever you must, but do not deviate from these commands. You may even find," Hoturi said with foul pride, "that you could stand to learn a few lessons from the champion of the Crane."

"Hai, Hoturi-sama," Yoshi whispered, anger swelling in his mind. Never had the sons of Doji dared to give him orders for the court. Hoturi was acting fully within his rights as champion—but his foolish pride could damn them all. As Yoshi reached to place the letter in his obi, a voice came at the wide doors to the throne room.

"My lord Kakita?" Shizue called. Entering the room with a gentle bow, she walked toward them. Her steps slid gracefully across the doorway, her clubfoot moving silently beneath the hem of her long kimono.

"Leave us, Shizue-san," Yoshi choked, hoping the girl would not enter.

"Hoturi-sama?" she smiled. "I did not know you were in the capitol."

"Sister." The gleam in Hoturi's eyes startled Shizue as he turned toward her. He extended his hand, still holding his sword before him. "Come to me."

"Hoturi?" She took a few sliding steps across the floor toward him.

"Yes, Sister." Striding to her side, Hoturi reached to catch a long lock of her pale white hair between his fingertips. Instinctively, Yoshi looked away, ashamed at such casual familiarity. Hoturi continued, "You appear more lovely than usual, little one."

"Thank you," she replied, glancing uncertainly at her mentor and trying to ignore the sword in Hoturi's hand.

Hoturi allowed the lock to slide over his palm. He removed the pins that held the thick cloak of her hair in a carefully styled foxtail. As it fell, he pulled it free across her shoulders. "My poor sister, trapped behind a crippled foot and a crippled mentor."

Yoshi stiffened on the dais, the insult scarring his features with anger.

"But do not worry, little sister," Hoturi breathed, pressing the blade of his shining sword to her pale throat. Light reflected from the blade. It scattered across her frozen features, illuminating her hair with cold blue flame. "If we haven't found you a husband by the time the Lion take Kyuden Doji, I will make a woman of you myself." His lascivious hand brushed her cheek.

Shizue shuddered, taking an involuntary step backward.

He grasped the hair at the back of her neck, pulling it into a knot about his fist and bending her head back. The blade hovered against Shizue's throat for a moment more.

"Hoturi-sama," Yoshi whispered. "Your commands will be obeyed, and your men are prepared to march within the hour. Take them and defend our lands." A desperate gamble, but Yoshi had no other game to play.

"You are right, Kakita." Hoturi's hand slid slowly from his sister's bent form, allowing her to fall to her knees. Snarling, the Crane Champion looked down at his retainers. "Have the Daidoji meet me outside the stables in half that time. I will kill any that dare delay my journey. Do you understand?" Hoturi grinned wickedly, pausing for a moment with his sword raised above Shizue's form.

"Hai, Lord Champion," Yoshi breathed, bowing his head to the floor in a gesture of obedience.

Shizue too bowed her head to the mahogany boards, her heart pounding in fear. They did not look up again until the storming beat of Hoturi's footsteps had faded from their ears.

AAAAAAAA

Yoshi watched from the balcony of the Crane as the contingent of Daidoji rode from the Imperial City. Their banners waved in the light of the torches they carried. At their head rode Hoturi, a brave figure in armor of blue and silver.

"Send a letter to Uji-san," the Kakita Lord commanded. His aides hurried to obey. "Tell him the Daidoji of Otosan Uchi march to the Crane provinces, bringing all the aid we can spare. More, tell him Hoturi rides with them."

Yoshi looked down at the token of jade in his hand. The lady's legs had melted as if burned by some titanic flame. In the moonlight of his chambers it almost seemed as if she knelt in his hand, praying for mercy from the madness of a ruined world.

fields of the k
i
-rin

Cracking walnuts between his teeth and spitting the shells into the large fish barrel, Wayu pondered the insanity of the world. Toku ferried helmets full of the sour nuts from the Shinjo woods. Toshimoko demanded more and more of the forest's fruit. The campsite was cold and wet from recent rain, and the barrel they had taken from the last village smelled of dead fish and old salt.

Overall, thought Wayu as he spat another walnut into the bin, this is an entirely unpleasant day.

"Master," one of the men shouted, "haven't we cracked enough?"

"No!" Toshimoko shouted, rapping the man on the head with a thin cane of balsa. "Not until that barrel is full."

"But why?"

Rapping him again, the old Crane samurai rebuked his inquisitive nature. "I don't

want the Unicorn to think the Emerald Champion travels with bandits and mercenary ronin." Laughing, Toshimoko pointed at Toku. "Get a large stone, as well, boy. We'll need it." He circled the fire, checking the barrel and encouraging the men. The sun was slowly fading in the sky, but Toshimoko showed no signs of stopping, and only one man was allowed to leave the group—to make food for the others.

Confused, Toku continued to split the nuts with his teeth. The Emerald Champion had gone mad, but it was his duty to obey.

A few hours of pounding later, Toku watched, amazed, as Toshimoko calmly ordered all the men to strip off their gi and hakima and hand him the garments. Over the fire, he placed a large iron cauldron—a cooking pot, taken from another village—filled it with water, and added the walnuts one by one. In went the clothes—blue, green, orange, and gray—and out they came, a dark brownish-black. The men huddled in their cloaks, exchanging extra clothing while their garments dried. The old sensei looked on with faint approval.